In Our Bedroom After The War
by harleytje
Summary: Preston and the Sole Survivor, Quinn, share comfort in Sanctuary. [Inspired by the song of the same name by Stars.]


Running. I was running because something was wrong, terribly wrong.

Everything looked perfect, shining, and bright and perfect but I wanted to scream that it was a lie. But all my breath was being spent on running, so how could I scream at the faces that blurred past? I couldn't shake the feeling that I had lost or forgotten something. I turned to look but as I did my feet stalled and stumbled and as I crashed down towards the ground impossibly slowly, there was a flash of light. And there in the distance the mushroom cloud bloomed and as it did I remembered- how could I have forgotten – what I had lost. My baby, my boy, my son.

" _SHAUN!_ "

* * *

I didn't know whether I screamed aloud or not as I woke, but I was sweaty and panting as if I really had been running for my life. My palms were clammy and gripped the blanket in a vice grip. My entire body ached with the longing for the family I had lost.

It felt like it was only yesterday that the bombs had fallen and we had fled to that Vault. Part of my broken, twisted heart wished I had never opened the door to that Vault-Tec salesman, imagining how much easier it would have been if I had died alongside my husband- and then my son would have never grown up to be the man he had become.

A sob escaped, as it did every time I tried to match the baby boy I'd lost to the old man I'd left behind to die.

Another sob followed the first, louder and feeling like it tore its way out of me. The tears burned their way down my cheeks as I folded in on myself, wondering not for the first time if I had made the right choice.

"General?"

Preston's voice startled me and I reflexively ducked my head to hide the tears, my hair falling over my face. They kept falling though, dripping off my chin and leaving dark splotches on the blanket.

I stared at the places they fell, refusing to meet Preston's stare. I heard him walk over and eventually he was in my line of sight, crouching down to see my face. I dragged my eyes up to meet his and his concerned look blurred as my eyes filled with more tears.

"It's late, shouldn't you be in bed?" I forced the words out, strangled but coherent and I blinked enough to stall the tears. Preston placed his gun on the ground and leaned against the bed frame.

"Codsworth had mentioned your nightmares had gotten worse so I decided my guard duty could maybe keep me nearby," he reached out and threaded his fingers through mine, forcing me to let go of the blanket and relax my grip. My whole body loosened as he ran his thumb along my fingers and I had to hold back another fresh wave of tears. "You don't need to go through this alone, you know."

I couldn't hold back the tears much longer and I sagged forward, sobbing in earnest. I felt rather than saw Preston move from the floor to the bed and wrap his free arm around me, pulling me to lean in against his chest.

He felt like safety, as he always had.

Preston had been the first friendly person I had met after waking up in the Vault. Right from the start he trusted me and wanted to help me. It was together that we got people to safety in Sanctuary, and while they cleared the rubble and rebuilt houses Preston had followed me across the Commonwealth. Unquestioningly loyal, never wavering or insulting my choices.

We'd spent so many nights together in those first few months I'd woken up, helping me find my Shaun. He'd stay up with me as I tossed and turned, scared I'd never see my son again. He'd taught me how the world worked, been my buffer when people had overwhelmed me, given me hope again. When I'd had to face the truth about Shaun and the Institute, he'd held my hair back as I brought everything I ate back up. I'd been nothing but sick after that, unable to eat when I realised the Institute had to be permanently destroyed. Preston had been the one to understood I couldn't feel anything but sickness at the thought of killing my son after looking for him for so long.

And when I'd finally gone through with it, when I pushed that button, he caught me as my knees buckled watching the blast and then held me in my hysterics as I tried to pitch myself off the building.

Preston had brought me home, back to Sanctuary with my own little shack and a lockable door- far from my old home. When I went to bed for so many weeks, unable to do anything but mourn, he had been the steadiest of all visitors. He'd brought me food and coaxed me into eating and putting weight back on, given me news on the developments as our little settlement expanded and grew with buildings, continued to call me General even though I was useless.

And when I had returned to myself, my wedding ring gone from my finger and tied on string around my neck, Preston treated me like nothing had happened. He'd passed on the message for me to the Railroad to ask them to care for the Synth version of Shaun when I realised I couldn't bear to look at him. Preston had done _everything_ for me.

And now he was here trying to chase away my nightmares.

"General…" His voice was soft and questioning as my crying slowly eased and trailed off and I lifted my head from his chest.

I pulled away, moving from the bed but gesturing to Preston to stay where he was. The night air was cold after being pressed against another warm body, and all I was wearing was a t-shirt and underwear. I had a bowl of cold-ish water and an old rag for keeping somewhat clean and used that to splash some water on my face, making myself feel somewhat human again. It only made me colder though and I was quick to get back to my mattress and the blanket. Preston had moved away a little, but he at least had a small smile now.

"Better now, General?"

"You know you don't need to call me that all the time," my voice was scratchy but I managed to return his smile, albeit a bit wobbly. "It's the middle of the night, I'm tired and I just got tears all over your coat. I don't feel very much like a General right now."

Preston's hand found mine again but his eyes didn't leave my face. Through our journey I'd gripped his hand a thousand times, needing to cling to him for strength so often, but this time it felt different. Maybe it was the dim light from the candles, maybe it was the vulnerable state I was in or maybe it was just the fact he had his gloves off for once. But his palm was warm against mine and his calluses were mirrors of my own.

"Okay," he squeezed my hand gently, as if it might break in his grip. "Quinn."

There were several long moments as I just replayed the soft breath of my name coming from his mouth before I leaned in and kissed him.

He was frozen for a beat, solid and still as if giving me a chance to pull back and laugh and play it off. The thought crossed my mind, wondering if I was being ridiculous. But I didn't move except to squeeze his hand back. And like that was a trigger his lips pressed back and the hand not holding mine came to circle my waist and rest on the small of my back. The distance between us melted to nothing until I was practically sitting in his lap.

It was the most tentative, gentle, and careful kiss I had ever felt. It was nothing like the frantic teenage make-out sessions I remembered from well before the war, nor the absent-minded pecks that were all I had time for after Shaun was born. Preston kissed me as if he was the luckiest man in the world and I was a delicate thing to caress. I didn't feel like the monster I'd come to accept I was. I felt loved.

I pressed my hand to his chest to feel the steady beat of his heart under my fingers. Strong and a little faster than usual, but I was sure my own heart was racing too.

With my eyes closed to the world and Preston kissing me I could have died happily then. Or lived forever in that single moment where nothing hurt. I wanted him, more than anything else. Just _him_. I wondered if maybe I had for a long time but I had forced myself to stay blind to it.

"Preston," I pulled away only enough to speak, my lips still brushing his and our breath mingling. My glasses were off and folded on the nightstand but this close I could see every smudge and stray patch of stubble on his face, which had never looked more stunning to me than before that moment. "When does your shift of guard duty end?"

"Two hours ago," he gave me a crooked smile and I leaned forward so our foreheads touched. "I didn't like the thought of you waking up scared and alone, so I stayed."

I took a moment just to think. What had I done to deserve this man?

Before the war if somebody had described a 27-year-old woman who had killed people, who had learned how to wire a bomb and throw Molotov cocktails, who had used her Mr Handy to cut down enemies and had blown up a building with her own son inside… I would have said she deserved a life of solitude and misery.

But I was no longer in that pre-war world. And I had the gentlest and kindest man in the Commonwealth holding me as if I were a gift. Happiness could still be an option in this new world after all.

"I don't want to wake up alone in the morning either," I admitted into the silence, forcing myself to not break eye contact. "Stay with me, here, please."

Preston leaned back to look at me and I felt myself flush a little.

"I don't mean… Not like that. It's been… It's been a long time. I just think the nightmares might go away if…"

He had stood before I could finish and for a terrible moment I thought I had said the wrong thing. But then he placed his hat next to my glasses on the nightstand and shucked his coat off and folded it by the side of the bed. Then his scarf and other layers followed, all joining the neatly folded pile until he stood before me in just his undershirt and a pair of long shorts.

It was strange to see him without his usual gear, he looked younger and more vulnerable somehow and I felt a surge of affection for him. He paused to blow out the candles but the light filtering from outside was enough so that I could still see his outline.

"All you ever had to do was ask," his voice was barely above a whisper as he came back to the bed. I moved closer to the wall so he could slip in beside me under the blanket and I felt glad I had chosen the double bed after all. "I'd do anything you ask, Quinn."

I didn't know what to say to that so I just kissed him, only once but hard and fierce. Hoping that how I clung to him said everything I didn't trust my voice to say.

He sighed against my lips, the kind of sigh that someone let out after sitting down for the first time all day and wrapped his arms around me. This time Preston wasn't gentle, he held me tight and secure, making me feel like nothing could break his grip on me and I was tethered somewhere safe. Not even a deathclaw could have pulled me from his embrace and I would have been happy to never leave it.

He kissed my forehead and I let my eyes close.

This time I slept through the night without a single thought or nightmare about the war. And when I woke up with Preston's arm still draped across my hip and his breath on my neck, I knew I had finally, truly come home.


End file.
